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by No_luck_fangirl



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kid Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tortured Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23611882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_luck_fangirl/pseuds/No_luck_fangirl
Summary: A runaway kid crossed paths with a billionaire. Said man, seeing the kid's condition, decides to lend him a hand.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 164





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**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you for giving this story a chance! I will leave it as a one-shot, since I like how it turned out and I don't want to ruin it with another chapter or anything.  
> The description is pretty much what happens, so I don't feel the need to clarify anything.  
> Please comment! I want to improve at writing and English is not my first language (Spanish is), so criticism is very welcome.  
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it! :)

He ran through the streams of people, past the tall buildings that seemed to touch the sky, stray dogs sleeping at some alleys, and the freezing weather proper of the first days of the year. 

Stopping to catch a breath, sweat went down his red-tinted cheeks – from the cold and tiredness alike – and fell onto the white ground. Another streak of wind dashed through. His body shivered. White spots fell from the sky and onto his chestnut hair, slowly but surely making it seem white. Looking up the cloudy sky, his face lit with happiness, wide eyes shining in amazement at the sight of something as simple as snow.

The loudness of the streets did nothing to the kid as he stepped on the snow and smiled with pure joy when he saw it sink. Giggling, he continued his way, this time walking in a slow pace, contemplating the unknown surroundings and repeating to himself over and over again that this wasn't a dream. _This is real._

Not so far away, at the end of the road, a crowd was expectantly looking over to the street, waiting with cameras and around a red carpet for either someone or something. He didn't know who or what, but curiosity is a dangerous thing, and soon it took over him the idea of finding out what was going on. 

Suddenly aware of how cold he was, he decided to ask if he could go inside or if they had something that could help keep him warm, seeing that having torn pants and a short-sleeved t-shirt does not help his condition. He was a kid, yet that didn't mean he wasn't smart. True, he didn't know what most of the things here are, but that wasn't _his_ fault. 

Going over to the crowd, he shivered once more when the cold air made his wet feet feel like ice. Maybe he should not have stepped on the snow without proper shoes. His four-year-old body couldn't take much cold, specially in his condition. 

Pouting, he looked up to the nearest person, smiling at the friendly vibe the middle-aged man gave away while he gripped strongly his camera and gulped, clearly nervous for whatever was going to happen soon. Raising his little hand to pull the man's coat and gain his attention, the boy asked with a soft, thin voice, "S-sir?" 

Finally conscious of the presence behind him, the man looked around and then, at last, down, taking a fair amount of time to process the kid's looks. Softening his gaze, he kneeled down and smiled. 

"What happened, kid? Are you lost?" He asked, yet knowing the kid's parents were probably not near. When the kid shook his head, the man's worry for the kid grew. "My name's Sam. Care to tell me yours?" 

"I-- I'm, uh, Peter," he answered. Seeking for warmness, Peter rubbed his hands, at the same time deciding to voice his thoughts. "I'm c-cold… I- Maybe I could go...inside?" He pointed over to the entrance of the luxurious building. 

Before the man could respond negatively, the crowd erupted into cheers and flashes, alerting Sam to stand up and immediately start doing the same, taking over one picture per second to capture every movement of the man that just opened the door to exit the parked limousine. 

Peter tried to gain Sam's attention again, but failed in the attempt. Seeing he was getting nowhere, he was about to turn around and go, but he feared he will get colder if he didn't get inside somewhere warm, so he made his way to the red carpet and, when he was about to cross by, someone's leg pushed him over and made him fell. His nose hit the ground and he grunted in pain. Nonetheless, this was nothing compared to what he suffered daily, so he decided to stand up and continue his way… just to be stopped by someone in a black suit. 

"Hey, kid. Get out of here." Adversely to Sam, this man was tough and strong, arms crossed in front of him to intimidate him. His voice was dark and low, almost like a growl. 

Peter's brown eyes widened in fear, hints of tears at the corners of them. Trembling, he tried to get back up, and he would've if his feet didn't feel this muted or drowsy, enough to make him fall again. A little purple because of not having shoes, his for long pale skin started losing its pink color, as though blood drained from his body. He could see the confusion on the man's face, but Peter didn't bother to explain his situation and closed his eyes and small fists tightly, silently hoping for someone to help him. 

As if answering his prayers, other person stepped into the scene, telling the robust man to draw to the side and, then, kneeling down to get a better look of Peter. "Hi," he greeted casually, with such carelessness in his tone that made Peter calm down. He was wearing a clean, grey suit with a white and wine strip-designed tie, orange-tinted sunglasses on his face. 

"H-hi..." Peter greeted back, still not moving. The person, after glancing over Peter's poor clothing, stood up and said something to the black-suited man, taking more than one peer at Peter as if making sure he was still there.

Kneeling down to Peter's height, he took off his sunglasses and leaned over him, enveloping him in a hug and standing with Peter still in his arms, embracing the boy thus warming him up. Peter would've pulled away if not for the man’s dearness and natural warmth, preventing his almost frozen limbs from worsening. Then, he noticed that said warmth didn't come just from the man's body itself but from a light emanating from his chest. He lifted his hand and carefully touched it, observing amazed the bluish blaze. He relaxed, whereas the man smiled to himself.

Suddenly, a picture was taken. And, consequently, one by one the cameras flashed, the pressmen asking all kind of questions about the kid, wondering if this was a sincere act of goodness or if all was planned. 

Overwhelmed by the unexpected flashes, Peter buried his face in the man's chest, shutting his eyes with force and clutching onto the older's clothes as he tried not to remember the horrible things he went through. The dreadful noise of his own grievous and pleading screams and the unbearable feeling of weakness are the two most terrible things he'd ever experienced. And he certainly doesn't want to feel them ever again. 

He just escaped the place he used to call home, he didn't want to remember anything from there.

The grip around him tightened and Peter became aware of being dragged away from the cameras' view and inside the large, dreamful building. Warily, he opened his brown tearful eyes, gazing over the room and then fixing on the door, shuddering when he thought of what awaited outside. 

"You okay there, kiddo?" The deeper voice of his saviour took him out from his trance. He took note of the events, now able to register the lack of cold wind and realizing that, for once, he felt save. 

Thinking about the man's question, Peter smiled and pushed back to look better at the older's face. "Yeah! Thank you sir. My name is Peter. What is yours?" He asked, no longer stuttering but full of wonder and rushing energy that didn't fail to show in his voice.

With a wide smile, the man responded to the boy's question. 

"Call me Tony."   



End file.
